


You're Hard to Miss

by pkg4mumtown



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 11:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19062211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkg4mumtown/pseuds/pkg4mumtown
Summary: I frequent this bar to let loose and today is no different, except for a new but handsome face I don't recognize.





	1. Through a Crowded Room, Look at Me Like You Know Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been working up the nerve to start posting this for about a week and here it is. I haven't posted a fic anywhere since 2010 and while I've written a ton in those years, this'll be my first on AO3 and Tumblr, so have mercy on me. The second chapter is already in the works and will contain steamy things, so the Mature rating is for safety. Enjoy.

The bass of the music rumbled in my chest as I got closer to the club entrance. I frequented this place after a stressful work week, more often than not going by myself. It was in a more upscale part of town, so the crowd tended to be pretty manageable and not consist of too many people looking to blackout every night. I adjusted my red dress and jacket as I approached the door, flashing a smile at one of the bouncers.

“Hey, Frankie,” I greeted him.

“Have a good night, Y/N,” he replied, holding a hand up and high-fiving me.

I had been coming here for so long that I knew quite a few employees by name, one of them actually being my roommate. I cut through the crowd, heading straight for the bar so I could loosen up before I lost myself on the dance floor. I squeezed into a tight space between two men, one standing and one sitting. I felt the man standing on my left shift, so he was facing me. I caught him staring at me as I waited for my bartending roommate to finish his current task.

“Hey, sexy, the name's Bryce and if you’re lucky, you’ll be screaming it a lot tonight,” he proposed like the biggest douchebag ever.

“No thanks, dude,” I frowned and shifted uncomfortably as I glanced at the gaudily dressed man, a large gold watch and perfect, white teeth gleaming at me. I pulled my leather jacket tighter around me, taking a small side step away from him.

The man on my right was unfazed as my leg accidentally brushed his, even going so far as to scoot his stool over to give me more room. I glanced at him, offering a small smile as I noticed his small act of kindness, which he returned with a slight raise of his glass. He was the polar opposite of the other man, dressed in a black suit with a navy button down. His medium-length, raven hair was slicked back, and his beard was neatly trimmed. They were like night and day, and so far I was favoring the night.

“How’s my favorite customer? The usual?” a comforting English accent spoke up. I looked forward, tearing my eyes away from the man on my right, and seeing the kind face of my roommate.

“Please, Marc. You’re a godsend,” I smiled, leaning forward and resting my forearms on the bar.

He set a clean glass in front of me, grabbing a bottle and pouring it in front of me. He slid the glass closer to me, accepting my credit card. He held it in between two fingers, “Tab?”

I nodded, sipping the drink, “When are you off?”

“I close tonight, darling,” he answered, scrunching his nose at the thought. He took notice of Bryce creeping on my left. Marc looked at me and raised his eyebrows, tugging at his pierced earlobe in thought. He flashed Bryce a dirty look, staying put until the guy gave up and left the bar. “Can I get you another, John?” Marc asked, addressing the embodiment of mystery on my right.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” the low, gruff voice answered. Marc nodded, his attention being beckoned on the other side of the bar. He gave me one last smile, patting the bar top, and walking away.

“Didn’t know Marc had a girlfriend,” the man, John, spoke up and took a sip of his own drink.

I laughed out loud, probably harder than I intended. “I’m not—he—he swings the other way. We’re just roommates,” I laughed, choking on my words slightly.

“Ah, my apologies,” he chuckled, blushing slightly at the mistake.

“No, no I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, he’s just one hundred percent into men,” I clarified sheepishly, feeling bad for laughing. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you here before,” I asked, clearing my throat.

“No, not new. I prefer the less crowded areas, but it’s quite busy today,” he observed, glancing around at the packed club. He turned back toward me, his eyes about level with mine despite him sitting down.

“That makes sense,” I nodded.

“What does?” he tilted his head at me.

“You probably stick to the tables in the corners, so I’ve never seen you, but you’re comfortable enough to ask about Marc's relationship status which means you’ve been coming here a while. I just never noticed,” I shrugged, downing the last of my drink.

“I noticed you,” he commented, staring forward at the rows of bottles.

“Oh, really?” I smirked, chewing on my lip. I glanced at Marc, who gave me an encouraging nod and mouthing _he's hot_.

“You’re hard to miss,” he nodded, looking back at me.

“Well, if you’re curious enough, you could always come dance with me,” I offered, stepping closer to him.

He looked like he was fighting himself on keeping his hands fixed, one on the bar top and one on his thigh. “I, uh, I don’t dance,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink and clearing his throat.

“That’s too bad,” I smirked, holding his gaze before backing up and blending into the crowded dance floor.

I watched him follow me with his eyes for a bit before losing myself in the music. I wasn’t sure how long I danced before I felt a pair of hands land on my hips and a presence behind me. The hands guided me closer to the body they belonged to, settling me into a rhythm with their own hips. I had no idea who it was, but so long as their hands didn’t venture any further, there wouldn’t be any issues. I secretly hoped it would be John, but from my position on the dance floor I couldn’t see the bar through the crowd. It wasn’t until a voice spoke in my ear, that I knew it definitely wasn’t John.

“How about we get outta here?” the voice asked, sending chills down my spine and not in a good way either.

I swallowed, looking down and seeing the same gaudy watch from earlier. While creeped out, I was annoyed that the guy couldn’t take a hint and made my annoyance known. “ _How about_ I just got here and I don’t feel like leaving, so no?”

Bryce's hands gripped my hips tighter, “How about it wasn’t a question?” his voice seethed.

I cursed in my head as the man shoved me forward through the crowd, three other men materializing around him. They looked around, not too subtly, as they shoved me out of the crowd and to a back exit. I tried to turn and catch Marc's attention, but he was facing away from us. I felt something rigid press against my back and a faint clicking noise, causing me to tense.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the voice murmured in my ear.

I gulped, hoping someone would take notice but everyone was in their own little world. I doubted John even knew I was gone, not that he had any reason to care.

-

“She take off? Marc asked as he passed by John. He looked out into the crowded dance floor, searching with squinted eyes.

“Yea, to dance,” John answered, also trying to peer through the crowd as Marc's presence had briefly torn his eyes away from my dancing form.

“I don’t see her,” Marc murmured, wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it over his shoulder.

Movement caught the corner of John's eye, his head turning sharply as he saw a group of men piling through the back door with a flash of red material as the door closed.

“Shit,” John murmured, standing quickly and stalking toward the back door. He ignored Marc’s shouts of his name as he took off.

-

The cold air hit me in the face as I was ushered into the back alley of the club and pressed into the brick. I hissed as I was not so gently shoved against the wall, with Bryce's hands clamping down on my neck.

“Here, take it. Take whatever you want,” I gulped, shoving my purse into his chest.

“Oh, I will, but it has nothing to do with anything in there,” he grinned, glancing at my purse. One of his hands turned my head away from him and I screwed my eyes shut, his mouth inches from my cheek. I pressed against the wall as if I was trying to phase through it, trying to get away from him.

“Let her go,” a familiarly gruff voice sounded in the darkness.

My eyes flew open at the voice, seeing John with a pistol pointed at us. Bryce's three stooges drew their guns, pointing them at John. John’s eyes darkened, and his features steeled, a silent rage making itself known. The three men advanced on John as Bryce turned his attention back to me. There was no way John could outgun three men at the same time, right? Against my better judgement, I decided to cause a distraction. I grimaced slightly as the breath of this creep entered my nose but allowed him to come closer anyway. Before his mouth could make contact with my skin, I drove my knee up into his groin. He doubled over in pain and cried out, head-butting me on purpose as he did. My head cracked against the wall, making me see stars as I felt blood drip down my nose. I caught the attention of his henchmen as they turned to see what had happened, so I kept the attention and punched him as hard as I could in the jaw. He stumbled back, just as three gunshots rang out. I jumped in my skin, squeezing my eyes shut, and freezing as I heard bodies hit the ground. I hesitantly opened my eyes and looked down, seeing the three men on the floor, each with a bullet hole in the head. John’s footsteps approached, causing me to snap my head up and watch as he strode past me. He grabbed Bryce by the neck, dropping him to the ground swiftly and laying down punch after punch onto his face. I watched as a knife in John's hand caught light and glinted in the dark alley. I tore my eyes away as his arm came down and the knife was swiftly plunged into the creep’s neck. While I turned my eyes away, I heard Bryce choking on his blood and gurgling. John calmly wiped the blade on the Bryce's suit before retracting it and sliding it back into his pocket. John pulled his phone out, the faint choking of the other man still present. He spoke briefly on the phone before pulling out four gold coins and stacking them on the forehead of the, now silent, man.

John stood and walked slowly over to where I was still standing against the wall. I backed up more, stilling when I realized I was pressed as far as I could go against the wall. He held his hands up to me, telling me that he wasn’t going to hurt me and for some odd reason I believed him.

“Are you okay?” John asked gently, not getting too close to avoid spooking me. He slowly pulled out a handkerchief from his suit pocket and handed it to me while keeping distance.

“Yeah,” I managed to whisper. “I, um, thank you,” I said as I accepted the handkerchief and wiped the drying blood away from my nose.

“No need to thank me,” he shrugged. He took the handkerchief from me, shoving it in his pocket. He laid his hands on my shoulders hesitantly but comfortingly, trying to search my eyes for any signs. “Are you su—?”

“Can I buy you a drink, then?” I interrupted, taking a deep but shaky breath.  I had been on the verge of shock as I just watched four men die right in front of me, until I heard John's soothing voice and felt his gentle touch. I was surprised at how tender his touch was, after watching his brief act of immense violence. Granted, they probably deserved it, but I was also slightly turned on by John's efficiency in his actions.

“Sure,” he nodded, removing his hands and opening the door. He waved his hand toward the doorway with a small smile.

We made our way back to the bar, Marc's worried face meeting mine immediately as we sat down.

“Oh my God, Y/N, are you okay? I couldn’t see you and then John bolted and—”

“Hey, I’m okay, now,” I reassured him, grabbing his hand. “Got paid a visit by Mr. McCreepy from earlier.”

“Do you want me to call Frank to go find him and toss him out?” he offered.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again,” I said simply, trying to get the point across. I saw Marc's eyes widen slightly before his eyes met John’s gratefully.

“Round on me,” I requested, nodding to John. Marc nodded and poured our drinks, trying not to dwell on the implication I had just made. We accepted our glasses, Marc disappearing to other customers shortly after handing us our drinks.

“To your impeccable ninja skills,” I toasted, raising my glass to John’s.

“I’m not a ninja,” he protested with a humored shake of his head and a laugh.

“Then what might you be?” I asked, raising my eyebrows to him in question as we drank.

“A book binder,” he shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he sipped his drink.

“Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit, I swear,” he chuckled.

“I don’t think a random book binder would carry a pistol and be scarily good with it,” I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“What? You never know these days,” he defended with a teasing smirk.

“You’re so full of shit,” I laughed, shaking my head.

“Maybe,” he sipped, “and maybe I do _that_ for a living,” he shrugged, gesturing his glass to the direction of the alley.

“See, that makes more sense.”

“So, you believe I’d be an assassin first, over a book binder?!” He furrowed his brows at me.

“I wouldn’t have said _assassin_ , that sounds so fictional,” I grimaced, “but sure.”

“You’re good,” he nodded, “though I also do bind and restore books in my free time.”

“You say it like I pulled the observation out of nowhere, like I didn’t just watch you put down four dudes effortlessly.”

“I could have been a cop,” he tilted his head.

“You would have announced yourself, though, and I highly doubt you would have gone for the head or stabbed him in the neck after beating the shit out of him.” John went silent and stared at me for a bit. “What?” I questioned.

“How are you so calm right now?”

“I don’t really know, I mean I’m grateful you showed up. I was in shock for a bit, but I don’t know. Your voice, your presence is really comforting,” I murmured and took a deep breath before shrugging, “the drinks help, too.”

“But like you just said, you watched me kill four men,” he crossed his arms.

“You think I should be scared of you?” I questioned.

“I think that would be a safe, normal reaction, yea,” he answered dryly.

“But you _saved_ me, so why should I be scared when you kinda seem like a guy who only goes after real scumbags. You went out of your way to notice I was missing, rescue me, and continued to make sure I was alright,” I stated.

“Marc started talking to me and I got distracted, or else I might have caught it earlier,” he sighed.

“That’s beside the point. We’re basically strangers, you didn’t have to keep an eye on me but you did. That makes you a good guy in my book, John,” I smiled, seeing a semblance of relief wash over his face.

“I told you, you’re hard to miss,” his voice lowered, the relief replaced by heat quickly.

“So, you _were_ watching me dance?” I raised my eyebrows and smirked almost flirtatiously.

“Mhmm,” he rumbled in his throat.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” I asked, stepping closer to him until our legs touched.

“And if I did?” he tilted his head, licking his bottom lip, and absentmindedly running his thumb along his bearded chin.

“Maybe you deserve a private one, then,” I murmured and stepped forward until I was settled in between his open legs.

He breathed deeply, sitting up straighter as I cautiously laid a hand on his broad shoulder. One of his hands stayed firmly planted next to his glass while his other fought to unclench itself from his thigh. His hand eventually won, finding the soft material of my dress without breaking his eyes from mine. His gorgeous brown eyes darkened as his arm boldly wrapped around my waist. His face was so close to mine that I could feel every warm breath ghost across my lips.

“Would Marc survive if you didn’t go home tonight?” he murmured, his voice sending tingles along my skin.

“His boyfriend would be ecstatic. He’s been _begging_ Marc for some alone time.”

“Mm, and tell me, Y/N, what would you beg for?” he questioned as his darkened eyes searched mine.

“Where’s the fun in me telling you now? You’ll just have to find out for yourself, won’t you?” I teased, my fingers gravitating to the hair plastered to the nape of his neck.

Our heads gravitated closer until his nose brushed against mine. His mouth was open slightly, anticipating and waiting patiently for my next move. His free hand managed to get Marc's attention by miming a signature.

“Closing out?” Marc's voice sounded, but I barely registered it. It blended in with the rest of the conversations as my focus was on John’s eyes and my thoughts flooding with the need to taste his lips. Without breaking eye contact, John flashed him a thumbs up. I could almost feel Marc's grin as he disappeared to grab our receipts and cards.

“Take that man for a ride, sweetheart. I can’t wait to hear about it later,” he beamed, patting the bar top and making himself scarce.

We broke our trance long enough to scribble our names indiscernibly on the receipts. Before I had time to process, John was tangling our fingers and leading me outside. I shivered as we stepped outside, whether it was at the thought of what John was planning to do to me or the brisk night air, I didn’t know. John read it as me freezing my ass off, so he let my hand go only as long as necessary to shrug his suit jacket off. He draped it over my shoulders and while I was still cold, my insides warmed at the gesture.

We approached a gray ’69 Mustang, John’s arm instinctively reaching for the passenger handle while letting me step ahead of him. I spun around to face him, blocking him from opening the door. I hesitated for a split second before grabbing his tie and bringing his lips to mine. His lips pressed insistently against mine, regaining control of the situation by winding a hand through my hair and trapping me between his car and his body. He hummed as I traced his lower lip with my tongue, his body reacting by pressing his hips firmly against me. His mouth suddenly left mine but hovered nearby as I felt his breath on my cheek. His chest expanded as he took a deep breath to calm himself down, keeping his hands in place on my hips.

“Get in the car,” he growled, leaving no room for questions. It took him a few seconds to separate himself from me, groaning slightly as the friction of his hips against me dissipated. This time, I allowed him to open the car door and sat almost too willingly in the seat as I waited for him.


	2. A Second Lasts Forever When We're Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John takes you back to his place. Did you really expect anything different?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating changed to Explicit because I got carried away (insert me shrugging and not caring). Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy started playing while I was writing part of this, so I threw that shit on repeat until I was done with the sexiness. Also, the chapter titles are lyrics from a song called Fade Away by INNA, Lush & Simon, and Sam Feldt. This chapter took me a little longer than I would have hoped because I would get nervous when I would remember that I was gonna post this publicly, so I'd have to stop and come back to it. Thanks for reading!

My heart rate picked up in excitement as he slid in the driver’s seat. His car roared to life and peeled out of the lot, my breath hitching in my throat as I felt his large hand make contact with the skin of my thigh. The entire drive to his house was silent except for my whimpers as his hand teased higher and higher up my thigh while gently squeezing. I was a writhing mess by the time he pulled into his driveway and parked. Suddenly, the warmth was gone and we were scrambling to the door. Once inside, I eyeballed his couch and tugged him in the direction of it by his tie.

“Got a thing for ties?” he questioned gruffly, following close behind.

“How could you tell?” I joked, watching him sit on the couch with his legs spread wide open. I shrugged my jacket off slowly and tossed it next to him, watching him shift in his seat as he was laser focused on my actions.

“Just a hunch,” he smirked before pulling me into his lap, so I straddled his form. His mouth found mine eagerly, a moan ripping from his throat as I settled my ass in his lap. He wasted no time in his efforts, running his hands up my thighs and under my dress until it was bunched around my waist.

We were so consumed in one another that we didn’t register the tapping of claws on the floor or the slight shift in weight on the couch. John’s face had buried itself in my neck as he dragged the zipper of my dress down, pausing when he felt an all too familiar tongue on his ear and neck. John pulled his head back, glancing next to us with a disgruntled growl. I locked my eyes on the happiest pittie I’d ever seen, his entire body wiggling in excitement at seeing his owner. I could see John trying to keep his alpha composure, but it all crumbled as soon as the pittie seemed to smile at him causing him to gently scratch the dog’s head.

He was soon reminded of his current mission as I shifted in his lap and rubbed against him. His hand retreated from the dog before speaking firmly, “Dog, bed, now.”

As if he had flipped a switch, the dog obeyed and toned its excitement down. It jumped off of the couch and padded away until we couldn’t hear its nails tapping the floor anymore.

John ripped the dress over my head, dropping it over the side of the couch without a care. His mouth fused back to mine, one of his hands sifting through my hair and grabbing roughly while the other slid to my ass. I wormed my arms in between us, undoing his tie and chucking it aside before unbuttoning his dress shirt. His hands released me as he quickly, almost violently, shrugged his jacket and shirt off at the same time. He reached behind his back, grimacing as he removed the gun wedged between his back and his pants. His eyes briefly flicked to mine as he double checked that the chamber was cleared, and the safety was on before tossing it on his jacket. Something about watching him handle his gun while I was pressed against his bare chest only made me want him more. His hands dropped to his pants and worked to get them off as I framed his face with my hands. He let out a frustrated grunt against my mouth as he struggled, slightly distracted by the way my nails raked along his bearded cheeks and back around his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally undid them, raising his hips enough to tug his pants and boxers down to his knees. The action was a feat in itself but he made it look effortless.

John’s hands grabbed either side of my hips, dragging me closer and hinting that I should grind down against him. I felt his thighs shift rapidly under me as he kicked his shoes off and shook the clothing off of his legs.

“Do you care about these?” he half groaned as my panties met his bare cock. His fingers played with the waistband of the panties as he waited impatiently for my answer.

“Yea, kinda of,” I mumbled against his lips, enjoying the groan that escaped his lips as I wrapped my hand around his length.

“That’s too bad,” he smirked, mocking my teasing from earlier. He tugged sharply on either side, the material giving way too easily under his fingers. He discarded the shredded garment and brought his hands back to my ass. I held his gaze as I stroked him slowly, watching him clench his teeth as he mulled over letting me continue or not.

“Not today,” he decided, moving his hand to my wrist and pulling my hand away from him and bringing it to his chest. His brow furrowed as he fiddled with the clasps of my bra, the last offending piece in his way being removed as swiftly as everything else.

“So, there’s a tomorrow?” I asked cautiously, biting my lip.

John’s hands guided me up higher on my knees as I guided him to my entrance. His groan turned into a sigh as I sank down on him, using the cushion of the couch as momentum to set a rhythm.

“You can have as many tomorrows as you want,” he sighed against my jaw, biting at the skin that his breath discovered. He sat up straighter and pressed his large hand against my upper back to keep me plastered against him.

I welcomed the sting his teeth brought, coupled with the burn of his beard against the sensitive skin. His hands each grabbed an ass cheek, spreading and allowing him to slide in deliciously deeper. A whimper ripped from my throat at the new depth, John’s grunts muffled into the skin of my neck. I leaned my body forward, forcing him to sit back against the couch and watch with open-mouthed anticipation as I propped my forearms on either side of his head. I had better leverage this way, being able to meet his hips harder and faster. I kissed him again, possibly too roughly as our teeth clashed for a moment before his teeth nipped at my lips in retaliation. I felt my body start to tighten around him, too early for my liking but I couldn’t help it with the new angle.

“Need help?” he asked in his deep, gravelly voice.

“Yes,” I hissed as I felt his hand disappear and reappear between us, ghosting over the aching bundle of nerves.

“Mm, I’m gonna need you to beg, like I was promised,” he murmured, his voice deepening if it was even possible. He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he waited.

“Please, John,” I just about purred as I dropped my lips to his ear.

“Please what?” he rumbled.

“Touch me, please, John, I—” I trailed off, whatever I was going to say dying in my throat as his thumb dipped back between us, rubbing circles against my clit.

I tensed in his arms, griping his inky black hair and kissing him while I shook and pulsed around him. My hips slowed as the stimulation became too much, earning me a frustrated growl from John as he tried to chase his own climax by moving my hips. In an exhilarating feat of strength, his arms tightened around me and I was suddenly on my back against the couch and his discarded clothes. The cold metal of his gun was digging into my hip, but I couldn’t find a reason to care as his hips slammed against me relentlessly, only prolonging my high and making me shake uncontrollably. My nails dug into his shoulders while his breath was hot and rapid against my neck. His ragged moans were lost as he bit into my shoulder, his hips stuttering and stilling as he came.

We breathed heavily for a while, his weight like a warm blanket over my sweat-slicked and cooling skin. I ran my fingers absentmindedly through his, now mussed, hair while his beard tickled my neck. I kissed his cheekbone, as he had yet to move his head while we waited for the feeling to return to our limbs. John eventually worked up the strength to heave himself up, protesting verbally as our bodies separated. He helped me stand on shaky legs and led me to the bathroom located in his bedroom. I grimaced as we walked, feeling the evidence of our time together trickling down my leg.

I leaned against the bathroom counter while he grabbed a wash cloth, wetting it and ringing it out before gently cleaning me. I jumped at the feeling of the cold cloth touching my hyper-sensitive skin, but got used to it moments later. I watched his eyes stare at the mirror beyond my form and look down, tracing his fingers along my hip. I glanced back, seeing the angry, red indent left by the gun’s hammer, grip, and safety.

“Sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips against mine.

“Don’t worry about it,” I responded just as softly, nuzzling my cheek against his and briefly kissing his cheek. He used the cloth on himself, hissing at the temperature, then moved back to the sink to wash it off.

I moved behind him, tracing the scars and tattoos on his back with light fingertips. I met his eyes in the mirror, staring at me curiously as I silently admired his skin like an artwork. When he was finished, he turned around, faced me, and wrapped his arms loosely around my waist. He stared in my eyes intensely but thoughtfully, making me realize he spoke through his actions and eyes more than his words.

“You staying?” he asked with a hint of hopefulness.

“I can,” I nodded. “If—if you want me to,” I attached quickly and blushed.

“No need to be nervous, Y/N,” he smiled, his eyes hooded and relaxed. “I meant it as an offer.”

I nodded, letting him guide me to his bed and following his lead as he slid in on what I assumed to be his side. I slid in opposite of him, mirroring him as he laid on his side so we faced each other. I was oddly silent, not wanting to bug him with questions that I probably shouldn’t know the answer to. Not surprisingly, he noticed and called me out on it.

“You okay?” he mumbled the question.

“Mhmm.”

Even in the dark, I saw him raise an eyebrow in disbelief before continuing, “What’s on your mind? And don’t even think about saying ‘nothing’.”

“Just wondering,” I murmured, meeting his eyes and seeing that he was waiting for me to continue. “What do they call you in the ‘assassin’ world?”

He laughed partially through his nose, as if he was expecting a question far heavier than that, “They call me by my name, usually. John Wick, John, Mr. Wick…” he listed, shrugging and smiling at the odd question.

“Oh, come on, you’re telling me you don’t have a crazy code name like—I don’t know—Obsidian, or something?” I pushed, wrapping my arm around his shoulder to rest my hand in his hair.

“Obsidian?” he laughed, “Really?”

“I’m serious!” I snickered.

“Okay, but I didn’t pick it, alright?” he clarified. He cleared his throat and purposely made it deeper, “They call me The Baba Yaga.” Before I could ask what that meant, he continued in the same voice, “The Boogeyman.”

His tone of voice sent goosebumps along my skin, and I was torn between laughing and jumping his bones again. I, oddly enough, chose laughter and watching his face contort in confusion.

“Sorry, I just—Obsidian doesn’t sound so cliché after that,” I laughed softly, covering my mouth with the pillow. “Sounded kinda hot, though,” I winked.

“Not the reaction I expected, to be honest,” he shook his head with a smile.

“I’m just trying to picture you being scary enough to be named after a fictional horror character. It’s a little hard after I just watched you turn into a pile of goo for your dog,” I grinned.

“Trust me, you don’t want to find out. What you saw today was nowhere near close,” he sighed, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Yea, okay, Boogeyman,” I murmured with a sleepy smile and turned over, so my back was facing him.

“Oh, hush,” he muttered, wrapping his body around mine. He wormed his leg in between mine and wrapped his arm around me until his hand sat at the base of my neck. He buried his face in my neck, breathing deeply and attempting to drift off as he assumed I did, too.

Just when I felt his breathing begin to even out I spoke up again, “So, do you have like a bat cave, too?”

All I could do was yelp as he sank his teeth into my shoulder to shut me up, which morphed into a fit of hushed giggles from the both of us, in the otherwise quiet and dark room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, thanks for reading. I think this is the last chapter, so I'll probably be exploring one-shots with imagines next.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Still trying to work up the courage to write and post the spicy things that will make up Chapter 2.


End file.
